


Leftoverture

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crossover with Crash Into Me series, F/M, Fix-It, I missed Dean and this is what happened, Memory Alteration, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Post Finale, hard angst, mentions of canon major character deaths (which I'm fixing)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Sam is carrying on as best he can, when the Dean from the other universe shows up at the Bunker in complete distress. Can Dean carry on without his brother like Sam is trying to? Can they help each other? (FINALE FIX IT!)~~~~“Sam?!” an intimately familiar voice called out. “Dean? Are you fellas home?”Sam stepped out of the library and stared across the War Room at his brother’s face. Familiar green eyes with the crinkles at the corners, freckled skin across his cheeks and hands...with beaded bracelets and a Rolex watch on his wrists.“Dean.” Sam set the pistol on the map table and stepped closer, forcing down his pain. “What are you doing here?”“I…” He cleared his throat and stepped closer to Sam. “Where’s your brother?”“I...asked you first,” Sam responded, unable to bring himself to say the words. Not to Dean’s face."I just...wanted…needed to…"Sam looked into Dean's eyes and noted the pain in the dark green orbs. "Where’s your brother?"Dean broke immediately, dropping his body to the bottom step of the staircase and sobbing into his hands. "I couldn't save him! I couldn't--there was so much blood and I couldn't-"
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author’s Note** : Don’t get me wrong, I loved the finale, but I was thinking about how much I miss Dean and I couldn’t stop thinking about ways I could have him back so…I’m going canon divergent while being as close to canon as possible. ‘Cause that’s how Cassie do. _Will eventually crossover with my_ ** _Crash Into Me_** _series._

**Story Warnings** : angst, Post-barn scene sads, mentions of major character deaths (Dean and AU!Sam), mentions of depression,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam woke to Miracle jumping on his bed. He groaned and reached out to pat the dog’s head. “Yeah. I’m up. Gimme a minute, buddy.” Waking up was always hard for him now. It used to be so easy for him, but since Dean died...pushing himself out of his bed was harder every day.

If it weren’t for that dog, he wouldn’t get out of bed at all.

Miracle whined and pushed his head against Sam’s thigh. “Yeah. I’m...yeah.”

He was going through the motions. Without Dean, everything was dulled. Except the pain. The pain was all-encompassing. The pain was everything.

He forced himself out of bed. He had to every day. He fed the dog. Fed himself. Moved along with his day. He waited on the laundry. He walked Miracle...couldn’t bring himself to go for a run.

He kept waiting for things to get better. Dean said Sam could handle it, that he could do it alone, but Sam felt a little more like that was a lie every single day. Weeks passed. He only felt worse.

He sat at the table in the library, head hung over a book of Greek lore, when the large front door opened. Sam stood, on instant alert, grabbing the pistol from the holster under the table and standing, moving to hide to the side of the archway as footsteps were heard on the spiral staircase.

“Sam?!” an intimately familiar voice called out. Sam’s heart felt like it was being crushed at the sound. “Dean? Are you fellas home?”

Sam stepped out of the library and stared across the War Room at his brother’s face. Familiar green eyes with the crinkles at the corners, freckled skin across his cheeks and hands...with beaded bracelets and a Rolex watch on his wrists.

“Dean.” Sam set the pistol on the map table and stepped closer, forcing down his pain. He almost didn’t notice the same pain on Dean’s face. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” He cleared his throat and stepped closer to Sam. “Where’s your brother?”

“I...asked you first,” Sam responded, unable to bring himself to say the words. Not to Dean’s face.

"I just...wanted…needed to…"

Sam looked into Dean's eyes and noted the pain in the dark green orbs. "Where’s _your_ brother?"

Dean broke immediately, dropping his body to the bottom step of the staircase and sobbing into his hands. "I couldn't save him! I couldn't--there was so much blood and I couldn't-"

Tears rolled down Sam's cheeks. The words Dean said were exactly what his own thoughts about his own brother's death. He couldn’t stop himself from sitting next to Dean and holding him as they cried.

"My Dean died too," Sam whispered after the sobs started to wane. Dean wiped at his eyes and looked over at Sam, who nodded sadly. "You wanna beer?"

"Sorry about that. I-I don't normally...I haven’t broken down like that since it happened," Dean said, five minutes later as he picked at the edge of the label on his beer.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Werewolf," Dean managed, even as his voice broke on the word. "Slashed his chest t-to ribbons...got his heart...but it didn't eat him. No, I did not let that piece of shit eat my brother's heart, I wr-wrapped…" His hand went across his mouth, shaking as he rubbed the words from his lips. "His heart burned with him," Dean concluded before taking a drink of his beer.

Sam's mind settled on his own memory of standing in front of a funeral pyre, his brother burning before his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What happened to Dean?"

Sam took a deep pull off of his beer and cleared his throat as he set it down. "S-something similar. We were fighting a nest of vampires in this old barn and...and there was this...this rebar hook. Vamp pushed him on it during the struggle and...it pierced his, pierced his heart and...there was no, there no saving him."

"I'm very sorry, Samuel. _Sam_ , I mean," Dean corrected, shaking his head at himself. "You're not Samuel. I apologize."

"Right. Harder than it seems to convince the brain of that. I mean...you’re not my brother...but the sound of your voice is…" Sam shook his head, too.

"I always thought I would go first," Dean said, voice quiet and far-off. "I never imagined a world where I didn't have Sammy."

Sam had to swallow down a sob. "Yeah. My Dean was the same." He swallowed again, but there was no getting around the ball of sadness in his throat. "He got what he wanted."

There was silence for a long moment before the sound of paws on tile thundering toward the War Room. Miracle jumped in Dean's lap and immediately started to lick the salt from his cheeks.

"Who is this little mutt?!" Dean asked, a bit of awe and amusement in his voice as he petted the pooch.

Sam cleared his throat. "That’s Miracle. Dean rescued him."

"Oh, he must think I'm-"

"Yeah," Sam interrupted. "That’s the happiest I've seen him since…"

Dean pressed a kiss to the top of Miracle's head and caressed his ears. "Such a good boy."

"He is. He's a really good dog." Sam stood and crossed to the whiskey decanter. “I think I need something stronger than beer. You want a glass?”

“Please.”

Sam poured two glasses of whiskey and turned back around. Miracle had his head in Dean’s lap, looking as happy as he’d ever looked. He slid one of the glasses across the table in front of Dean and sat back down. “How long ago did it happen?”

“Week ago,” Dean said, staring at the amber liquid. “Yours?”

“A month.”

“How are you still standing?”

Sam’s eyes snapped to Dean’s. How _was_ he still standing? “Dean wanted me to keep going. So, I’m going.” He shrugged and focused on his whiskey.

“Does it get easier?”

“Not so far.”

Another moment of silence settled over the room as the men drank. Dean stared off into space as he scratched at the dog’s head. “I don’t think I can do this,” he whispered eventually.

“Of course, you ca-” Sam started to argue.

“No.” Dean looked over at Sam and shook his head. “No, I can’t. I’m not built for it. I’ve been taking care of Sammy since I was a kid. I’ve never been without him. I can’t do this without him.”

Sam swallowed and looked over at Dean. “Dean...I’m sure you can. I’m sure you…” He sighed. “You can keep going. I know it seems like you can’t, but-”

“It doesn’t _seem_ like it, Sam. I am not able to do this. I am not like you. I can’t do this.” He pushed the dog out of his lap and stood. “I cannot. I cannot go forth without him.” He stomped away toward the library and Sam wanted to follow, but something forced him to stay as Miracle ran after Dean.

‘Cannot go forth without him’ rang in Sam’s head. ‘Yes you can’ followed it.

“I don’t want to,” he whispered. “I really don’t want to.”


	2. Noise and Confusion

**Summary** : Au!Dean absolutely can’t deal with his Sam’s death. Winchester Stupid is not exclusive to the original Winchesters.

 **Story Warnings** : angst, Post-barn scene sads, mentions of major character deaths (Dean and AU!Sam), mentions of depression, memory fuckery, a nice surprise at the end.

~~~~~~~~

The sound of Dean humming in the library hit Sam like a ton of bricks. His Dean always hummed Metallica or Skynyrd or Journey if he thought Sam wasn’t paying attention. Sam had never heard Dean humming Michael Bublé, but there it was. Dean humming “Haven’t Met You Yet”, the end of a pen in his teeth as he stared at a page in a book. It was another jarring example of how that Dean was not _his_ Dean.

Sam was on his second glass of whiskey when the excited gasp filled the air. He turned to look at the library as Dean stood and picked up the book. He could see the man school his facial expression before clearing his throat and crossing into the War Room. “I found something. I’d normally-”

“You can’t bring him back. Bringing people back always ends in misery,” Sam muttered as he took another drink of whiskey.

“I know that. I-I know that I can’t bring my brother back, but…what if you can have yours?”

Sam’s heart clenched at the idea, but he shook his head. “No. No, Dean didn’t want me to try to bring him back. He didn’t want-”

“Just listen!” Dean snapped, setting the book down. “You won’t be pulling him out of Heaven, Sam. He’d stay right where he is.”

“I can’t-”

Dean flipped the book open and pointed to a handwritten page in Magnus’ neat script. Sam’s whiskey-heavy eyes couldn’t focus on the words for a few moments. “Sammy always did the spellwork if we needed it done. I’m not very good at it, honestly. I’m not good at much…much more than supporting him. So without him…I just can’t.”

“Memory manip-” Sam started to read and Dean nodded.

“Yes! See, I can’t bring my baby brother back to life, and you can’t bring your big brother back. I can’t live without Sam, though. I'm…I’ve been so close to ending it since he died and…I don’t want to feel like this anymore. So…”

“You want me to take your memories away?” Sam asked.

“No, not _just_ that. No. I want you to replace them.” Sam shook his head in confusion. “Replace _my_ memories with _his_. Twist my mind to make my memories his. His soul stays where it belongs and I become him.”

A horrid mix of sadness, anger and disappointment filled Sam. “Dean, I can’t just turn you into my brother.”

“Why not? It is a better choice than both of us dying. Because I can’t live like this.”

“You aren’t him.”

“If I had his memories, I would be. Memories make the man much more than-than the clothes do, right?”

“I wouldn’t even know how to give you his memories! And Dean told me ‘no’! He told me to keep going! He told me to let him go and I’m doing that! You can’t–you’re not him!” Sam snapped, sliding the book across the Map Table and squaring his shoulders. “You can’t be him. You can’t. Find another way to keep going. Find–find another way, Dean.”

Sam took a deep breath and stomped away from the otherworld Winchester, heading for his bedroom. He was trying to move on. He was trying to move forward and keep fighting and Dean wouldn’t let him be.

Even if he could pull off one of Magnus’ spells, there’s no guarantee that Dean would be his Dean. He might be some crappy imitation and even if he did come out with all the right memories and the personality and the…Deanness that defined his big brother…it would still be wrong, wouldn’t it? Dean asked him to keep fighting, told him that he was strong enough to go it alone. If he didn’t do that…he’d be failing Dean’s last wish.

He couldn’t do some spell to bring Dean back. It would go against everything Dean wanted.

Rest didn’t find him, he had to run it down. He kept thinking about the spell, about the possibility of having Dean back, about the terrible ache of loss in his chest. He thought about the stacks of pies he saw in the store last time he went into town, commercial preparation for the Thanksgiving holiday that recently passed. The lady at the counter must have thought he was insane, getting all choked up about a stack of pies.

Dean always loved Thanksgiving and Christmas. Pie and candy and eggnog. The presents were never important. Being with Sam was.

Sam wiped away a tear before settling on his side and forcing himself to sleep. He woke not three hours later to Dean’s voice down the hall.

“Hello? Is anybody here?”

Sam sat up with a sigh. Dean must have forgotten which room was Sam’s. Another point for 'not my Dean’. “Down here, Dean! Twenty-two!”

“Who’s Dean?”

The words jolted Sam completely awake and he jumped out of bed, grabbing the doorknob and pulling open his door to come face to face with a bewildered Dean. Miracle was sitting at Dean’s feet, panting and wagging his tail.

“Dean?” Sam croaked, looking into the familiar green eyes.

“Is that _my_ name?” Dean asked. “Because I had this pinned to my shirt so I thought I might be Sam.” Dean offered a piece of paper to Sam who took it hesitantly.

**Merry Christmas, Sam.**

“That bastard!” Sam hissed, crumpling the paper up into a ball, but not before noting the distinct lack of blocking to the letters.

“Who?” Dean asked, wide-eyed and almost innocent.

“ _You_!” Sam growled, tossing the paper over his shoulder and grabbing Dean’s elbow. “Come on. I gotta find that book. There’s gotta be a way to fix you.”

“Fi-fix me? Wait, am I broken?”

“You’re…never mind. Let’s just go find a way to reverse this.”

“Reverse what?”

Sam growled and yanked on Dean’s arm, pulling him down the hall. Miracle ran ahead of them, zipping through their legs and speeding toward the library. Sam forced Dean into the closest chair and stomped to the book left open on the table.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked from the other end of the table.

“Shut up,” Sam snapped.

“That’s not nice,” Dean pouted.

Sam sighed and shook his head as he read the page of Magnus’ book with the Memory Manipulation spell. This Dean, this clean slate of Dean, wasn’t at fault for the state of things. This Dean didn’t remember that Sam told him not to do this, he didn’t even know what ‘this’ was.

“Sorry. Just…keep quiet. I’m trying to read.”

“Okay. I just…what are you doing?”

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, looking down the table at Dean. “Look…I don’t know how to explain this, but…you did a spell that took your memories away and I’m trying to fix it, okay?”

Dean nodded and went back to caressing Miracle’s ears. “I did a spell? That’s so cool.”

“Not-not really, Dean.”

Sam focused on the book as Dean started playing fetch with Miracle, throwing a rubber bone across the room and laughing as the dog ran to grab it and bring it back to him.

“Shit,” Sam exclaimed as his eyes fell on the word ‘irreversible’.

“What?” Dean asked, his eyes snapping up.

“Um…I have to…call somebody. I’ll be back. Stay here and don’t–don’t do anything stupid.”

“Okie-dokie!” Dean said with a smile as Sam picked up the book and walked away to the dungeon to summon Rowena. Sam needed a real witch to help him out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I hope yer not expecting some marvel of magic, Samuel,” Rowena said, her sculpted eyebrow raised. “This is a Cuthbert Sinclair masterpiece. I’ve had in-depth conversations about magic with the man downstairs. He didn’t believe in loopholes or backdoors. Yule not be finding a way to fix this.”

“Come on, Rowena! There’s gotta be something!” Sam exclaimed. “You’re the Queen of Hell! The most powerful witch I’ve ever met! You have to have something!”

“Don’t insult me. Of course I have _something_. I have the Grimoire…and in the Black Grimoire…I have a way to get Dean’s memories back.” Sam let out a sigh of relief and Rowena smiled. “It’s all electrical impulses happening in the brain, isn’t it? And I’ve traversed Dean’s brain in the past. I can put them where they belong.”

Sam’s eyebrows came together. “You haven’t traversed this Dean’s brain.”

“No. I couldnae give yer brother’s double _his_ mind, but I could give him yer brother’s mind.”

Rage slammed Sam like a freight train. “That’s exactly what that jerk wanted me to do!”

“Then why aren’t we doing it?” Rowena asked. “Do you not _want_ Dean back?”

“Of course I want Dean back, but he didn’t want me to do that. He didn’t want me to–Dean wanted me to keep grinding without him.”

“No, he didn’t want you to fall apart and go searching fer some way to sacrifice yerself to get him back!” Rowena argued, pointing at the Black Grimoire with an aggressively sharp red nail. “This is a ready-made solution that no one has to die fore. The sacrifice has already been made, albeit against yer wishes. Do you really think Dean wants you to be alone?”

The tears that overwhelmed Sam’s eyes took him by surprise. “I don’t know what to do.”

Rowena gave him a look of pity as she set her hand on his shoulder. “You have only two options here, Samuel. Leave him be with no memory of the tragedies of his past or the things he’s had to do…or let me give you your brother back.” Sam shook his head, still confused about the best course of action. “It’d be a perfect Yule gift. Well, it’d be better for Samhain, of course…bringing back a dead relative…but I could give you this.” She finished her musing quietly, looking into the giant man’s tear-filled eyes.

Sam closed his eyes, his mind calling forth the neat and distinctly not-Dean handwriting on the note Blank Dean gave him. **Merry Christmas, Sam.**

The idea of leaving Dean without his memories, leaving Dean to be…nothing, it reminded him of when the Loughlins took Dean’s memories by force. There was no way Sam could leave Dean like that. “I want my brother back,” he whispered, opening his eyes. “I miss him so much. I need Dean.”

The Witch Queen of Hell smiled fondly and moved her hand up to caress his cheek. “Let’s go get you your brother back, Samuel.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was standing at a shelf with a scimitar in his hands when Rowena and Sam walked into the library, Miracle laying at his feet.

“This is so cool!” He swung it through the air and Sam smiled. Some things were just inherently Dean. Touching things he shouldn’t be touching is one of them.

“Put it down, dear. We’ve got work to do.” Rowena smiled up at him as he fumbled to put the sword back on display. “I’m Rowena, Queen of Hell. I’m going to give you yore memories back.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dean said with a smile as he left the sword and turned back to her. “So, how are you gonna give me my memories back? I don’t even know how I got rid of them.”

“Well, I’m a much better witch than you.” Rowena gestured to the closest chair and Dean sat without a question. She turned to look at Sam as he set the Black Grimoire and the Book of the Damned on the table. Sam was still apprehensive about this plan. He didn’t want to go against Dean’s wishes…but he couldn’t leave this Dean without a mind. “I need you to go to the supply room and grab everything on this list.” She produced a piece of paper out of thin air and handed it to the hunter who nodded and started out of the library. The list was a lot of random spell components, most of which Sam was sure he’d find in the storeroom.

He had a bussers box full of spell components under his arm when he heard Dean scream. The box hit the floor and Sam went running on impulse, dashing toward the library where he heard Dean trying to keep his pain inside, grunting and moaning to keep the screams inside. Sam’s eyes went wide as he ran up the steps to see Rowena with her hands knuckles deep in Dean’s skull, her eyes glowing bright white as tendrils of light rushed across Dean’s face and down his neck.

“Dean!” Sam shouted over Dean’s pained screaming.

“Almost…there…” Rowena said, quietly. Sam could see the tendons in her arms move and he could imagine her fingers wriggling in his brother’s brain. She let out a satisfied sound as she pulled her hands away and wiped them on Dean’s jacket.

Dean blinked a few times and licked his lips absentmindedly as Rowena stepped around the chair to stand in front next to Sam.

“Did it work?” Sam whispered.

Dean’s lips twisted up into a soft smile. “Heya, Sammy.”


End file.
